


Easy A

by codacious



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Stanley Uris, Easy A References, F/F, Gay Bill Denbrough, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Mike Hanlon, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, Makeover, Queer Ben Hanscom, Teenage Losers Club (IT), The Losers Club Are Not Heterosexual (IT), but thats okay!, eddie kaspbrak is a bit of a hoe, inspired by the HIT teen movie easy a starring emma stone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codacious/pseuds/codacious
Summary: “Are you—you’re still stuck on ‘fixing your reputation’ or whatever?”“Yes! I am!” Eddie said, checking his mirrors before getting back onto the route to school. “Beverly, I’m trying to catch a dick before I rot. Maybe you should do the same.”Eddie Kaspbrak makes a change from his old nobody self to a new and improved, popular, promiscuous version of who he once was. And lands the hottest guys in the school in the process.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh/Kay McCall, Bill Denbrough/Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon/Eddie Kaspbrak
Kudos: 18





	Easy A

**Author's Note:**

> all of the losers are seniors in high school, minus eddie and beverly, who are seniors. any underage sex mentioned in this is consensual!

I.

Wake up.

Shower.

Brush teeth.

Get dressed. Ironed polo and khakis. Keds.

Eat. Fruit smoothie and granola bar.

Drive to school. Pick Beverly up.

Go to class. Sit with Bev in the library at lunch. Get pushed around a bit in the halls. Keep to yourself. So much to yourself that nobody fucking even knows who you are. You have one fucking friend. You have had one fucking friend since the first goddamn grade. Even the new freshmen are more popular than you. Look at them and wonder how the hell they keep getting taller each year—even the girls are taller than you. What the fuck, they’re, like, fourteen years old.

Go to art club. Go unnoticed there as well.

Drive home. 

Watch Golden Girls with Mom.

Go to room and do homework. Finish quickly.

Watch porn on computer. Finish quickly.

Fall into a depressive episode because you’re sixteen years old and have never even had your first kiss.

Cry and FaceTime Bev. Say that everything’s fine even though it’s obviously a lie. Change the subject to something else.

Eat dinner. Pasta and grilled parmesan chicken. 

Brush teeth.

Change into pajamas.

Sleep.

Repeat.

II.

Eddie tugged on the sleeves of his sweater, a handmade gift from his mother. The air was already beginning to chill in September, not uncharacteristically for Maine. He closed his locker. Normally he’d walk to pre-cal with Bev, but she was out sick today. It was that time of the month—he’d been tracking her cycle since sixth grade because _of course_ Beverly’s shitty dad refused to buy her the necessities and it was now his obligation to do so—and she always ditched on the third day. 

As he made his way down the hallway, he felt a tug on his backpack. He stopped and turned. “Yo, freshie, you got five dollars on you? I swear I’ll pay you back.” Richie Tozier, the not popular but well known mascot-slash-morning-announcements-host. And if it wasn’t the fact that anyone who went to Derry High knew that Richie would never pay him back that pissed him off, it was the fact that Richie called him ‘freshie.’ _’Freshie.’_

“Are you—are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie spat, looking up at the senior. “‘Freshie?’ I’m in eleventh _fucking_ grade. I’m in your Criminal Justice class!” Eddie _did not _spend his summer emailing the principal back and forth about letting him take a course only for seniors just for _Richie Tozier_ to call him ‘freshie.’ __

“You—oh! You are! Freddie, right?” Richie smiled, acting like there was no insult whatsoever in being called a freshman.

“God—fuck you!” Eddie stormed off, avoiding the stares he got from passing students. This was the most attention he’d gotten at school in three years.

III.

“God, he’s such a dick.” 

“I know,” Eddie said, hunched over in an awkward position in an attempt to paint his own toenails with his mother’s nail polish (just nude enough to where she’d never notice—he’d still make sure to always wear socks around her just in case). “I just—I’m so fucking sick of being a wallflower. A nobody. I’m not even the kind of unpopular that gets jumped by Bowers and his friends. Nobody fucking knows I exist!”

“I mean, isn’t it a good thing you don’t get jumped by Bowers?” Beverly asked, her voice crackling a bit over the phone. Her apartment had crappy wifi.

“It’s not that I want to be bullied or anything. I just want someone to acknowledge my existence!”

“I acknowledge your existence. I-I’m kinda happy with our social standing right now.”

“Bev, we don’t _have_ a social standing.” Eddie sighed. “I’m in high school and I’ve never had my first kiss. Never been in a relationship. Never been on a date. Bev, I wear polos from Goodwill to school every day. I drive my mom’s old Accord.”

“I like your polos! And your mom’s Accord has secret snack cubbies!” 

“Jesus, Beverly, we enjoyed those when we were ten years old!” Eddie harshly closed the nail polish and fanned his drying nails. “It’s time to grow up. At least, it is for me.”

Bev sighed. “I—I think my dad’s calling me. I have to go.” She hung up abruptly.

IV.

With absolutely nothing better to do with his time, Eddie decided to put his plan into action. 

First off, the Quiz Bowl-chic wardrobe had to go. Sonia would never approve, but if Eddie was going to do this whole operation, he’d have to get used to her not approving of anything. The next dilemma: the funds. Sonia wouldn’t let Eddie get a job. And his ideal style wasn’t exactly cheap.

So. Eddie lied about his age and created an account on RealSugar.com. He was safe about it, of course; he didn’t show his face, he refused to send any sexual photos or videos, and he would never meet up with any of the sugar daddies in person. And by the end of the week, he had $2000 to his name. And sure, he got three hours of sleep over the course of that week because he stayed up all night talking to lonely old men, but it payed off. And by October, Eddie had an entirely new closet.

But, obviously, the new and improved wardrobe wouldn’t do all the work by itself. Eddie needed, say it with me kids, _confidence_. Which wasn’t too hard, because Eddie had known long before junior year that he was far superior to his peers, who had probably already peaked at seventeen years old. He cared about what they had to say, but he’d never take any of it to heart. Two years from now he’d be on the other side of the country and never have to see any of them again.

He was ready.

V.

Eddie had managed to slip out of the house the morning of October 2nd without being seen by Sonia—yes, he’d eventually have to deal with his mother’s disapproval. But today was not that day.

He pulled up in front of Beverly’s building and shot her a text letting her know he was waiting. She smiled at him as she came out of the building and crossed in front of the Toyota to the passenger’s side. Her eyes trailed down and her expression became one of shock as she got in and buckled her seatbelt. 

“Eddie. . . what are you wearing?” She asked, gawking at his outfit. He’d really kept it simple for the first day of his societal reconstruction; baggy jeans that revealed his slim torso and a tight crop top meant for women. But the Keds were still on his feet.

“You like it?” Eddie smiled.

“Are. . . are you wearing lip gloss?”

Eddie licked his lips playfully. “Perhaps. What? You’re surprised that the twink is acting like a twink?”

“No, it’s just—” Bev chuckled awkwardly. “This is new. But I like it.”

“Good. I’m trying a lot of new things this year.”

“Are you—you’re still stuck on ‘fixing your reputation’ or whatever?”

“Yes! I am!” Eddie said, checking his mirrors before getting back onto the route to school. “Beverly, I’m trying to catch a dick before I rot. Maybe you should do the same.”

Bev looked everywhere except Eddie, avoiding eye contact. “I do want to—‘catch a dick.’ I just. . . I’m just waiting for the right guy.”

“It’s too late to wait for the right guy. Everyone’s already fucked, and no one wants to fuck a virgin. Actually, maybe they do. You know what, Bev, maybe it’s not too late in the game for you—”

“And who’s gonna wanna fuck you? The motherfucker with mommy _and_ daddy issues who still takes Flintstone vitamins every morning?”

“As if you don’t have the worst daddy issues of all time,” Eddie scoffed.

“You do _not_ get to talk about my dad!” Beverly yelled.

Eddie fell silent. “. . . Fuck. I’m sorry, Bev.” She was turned away from him. “I’m really sorry. I just. . . I want to make some personal changes. That isn’t gonna stop us from being friends. Nothing is. Okay?” 

“I know that, dumbass,” she said softly. “But I feel like I’ve been an insufficient friend if you really wanted to change that badly.”

“What? Bev, no. If I hated you, I would’ve left your ass a long time ago. Why do you think I still call you every day? And bring you chocolates when you start shark week? And binge watch all the Alvin and the Chipmunks movies with you every full moon?”

Beverly giggled. “Because we are so fucking weird.”

“Exactly. Me dressing like a hoe doesn’t get rid of the fact that I’m your retainer-wearing, Roblox-playing, Alvin and the Chipmunks-watching best friend.” Eddie held out his pinky finger, Bev interlocking it with her own. “

“That was. . . so fucking cheesy.” Bev laughed.

“I’m well aware. Let me have my moment.”

VI.

Eddie felt the stares as he walked down the halls with Beverly. 

_Chin up, shoulders back, eyes ahead._

They stopped at their adjacent lockers, Beverly laughing under her breath. “You’re noticing this too?”

“No shit,” Eddie giggled. And, because Eddie was a petty bitch, he had one last thing to do. “I gotta go to the front office real quick. I’ll meet you in pre-calc?”

Beverly nodded. They went their separate ways, Eddie doing his best not to grin as he walked through the crowd of students in the halls. Sure enough, Eddie found who he needed at the office. There, sitting by the PA system microphone, was Richie Tozier.

Eddie leaned against the receptionist’s desk, catching Richie’s attention. “You got five dollars on you?” Eddie asked smugly.

“Oh, nah. Sorry,” Richie said, tugging at the string of his Gorillaz hoodie. “Eddie, right?” He asked.

“Oh, you got it right this time,” Eddie smirked. “First it was freshie, then it was Freddie. Third time’s the charm, I guess,” Eddie smiled, sweetly innocent.

“This time?” Richie asked. His eyes widened with realization. He laughed. “You cursed me out in the halls a couple weeks ago. My bad about that. Douche move on my part.”

Eddie smile faded. “Uh, yeah. . . I kinda thought this would be a lot more badass.”

Richie smiled. He quickly looked Eddie up and down—Eddie noticed. “You planned this out?” Richie asked.

“Maybe I did,” Eddie said. “This is. . . really embarrassing.”

“It’s humorous,” Richie shrugged, as if that made things better. “Cute shirt, by the way.”

“Oh—thanks.” Eddie grinned. “I’m gonna let you get back to your morning announcements. Tell Leslie I said hi when she comes back from the lounge.” 

“Can do.” Richie saluted Eddie.


End file.
